


A Change in the Weather

by ConquisteloCait



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Cheesy plot device is cheesy, F/F, First Kiss, fic request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConquisteloCait/pseuds/ConquisteloCait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wynonna needs a lead. Waverly knows where it is - in the middle of the woods, and there's a storm coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change in the Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allmyinhibitions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmyinhibitions/gifts).



> # 78 - A Change in the Weather (WayHaught)
> 
> A giftfic for allmyinhibitions, with my gratitude <3
> 
> I’ve been hanging out with Nicole in these fics lately, so let’s give Waverly a shot? I guess? Also – so it snowed in the last episode? But they were wearing shorts? Did I miss something? Anyway, it’s summer now. I’ve decided. 
> 
> My first take on a possible first kiss. In a super cheesy romance novel plot device kind of way. Well, with demons being terrible people in the background, but.

 

            The rumbles of thunder were getting closer to the flashes of lightning that heralded them. Not the kind of warm, summery thunderstorm that comes in to cool down evening barbecues and moves on, but the dark, eerie-colored sky of a major storm. If Waverly had any sense, she’d be headed back to her truck this instant. Unfortunately, she was an Earp; Sense had abandoned their family long ago.

            The Revenant that Wynonna was looking for had given them the slip, but the trail of missing kids it was beginning to leave behind was Wynonna’s focus. To catch the predator, you watch the prey. To take it down after, you needed to know its weakness. That’s why Waverly was out in these woods, trying to find whatever was left of George Vale’s family cottage. According to her records, it used to be nestled in the thickest copse of trees where the Vales tried to eke out a living as trappers. If she was correct, it should be just around the –

            A loud snap of thunder made her jump and fumble her pen. When it passed, she scoffed at herself and tucked the pen behind her ear, sliding over a log and doing her best to descend the creek bank in her sandals. She hadn’t exactly been planning to excavate in the forest when she’d dressed this morning, but when Wynonna said “urgent,” that was usually an understatement. And Wynonna was counting on her.

            She managed to reach the creek with only one narrow brush with a thorny bush and a plant that looked suspiciously like poison oak. Was it poison oak? Why the hell didn’t they teach useful things like that in Girl Scouts?

            Oh, wait. They had. Waverly just had to quit before she reached that level because it cost too much and Gus had just spent a big chunk getting Wynonna out of jail somewhere down South. Again.

            Brushing that particular memory aside, Waverly weaved her way under branches and over the cracked, rocky bed of the creek. The wind was picking up, and the trailing leaves of willows clung to her hair and her cardigan as she tried to move forward. She’d get soaked, but it couldn’t be all that bad, right? Besides, it was just another few feet, she was sure of it.

            A few more minutes of tracking and the next flash of lightning showed her the silhouette of the Vale house another twenty feet ahead. She was about to take off for it when a commanding voice called out from the top of the ravine.

            “Stop!”

Jerking her head around, Waverly found herself on the business end of Nicole Haught’s glock. Nicole recognized her immediately and lowered the gun, though she frowned in confusion. “Waverly? What are you doing out here?”

Waverly scoffed. “I could ask you the same thing!”

Nicole looked off into the woods. “Another girl’s gone missing. She was last seen at her Aunt’s place, back a few miles.” Her eyes were serious and her brow furrowed – not the usual easy-going smile Waverly was becoming so fond of. This was less Nicole she was speaking to than Officer Haught, and it struck her that she’d never really seen Nicole at work this way. The wind had pulled little wisps of hair from her braid and they whipped against her face, the next flash of lightning illuminating her strong features. She looked like a stranger, or a painting – like a sailor hanging from the rigging in a storm. Resolute. It made Waverly want to reach out just to see if she was real.

The spell was broken somewhat when Nicole slid down the bank with practiced ease. Now face to face with Waverly, Nicole’s frown deepened. “You need to get back. It’s not safe with this storm coming.”

“What about you?” Waverly protested, hands on her hips. “Why did Sherriff Nedley send you out here alone? Don’t you guys usually work in pairs?”

Nicole chewed at her bottom lip, shifting her weight. “He didn’t. I…came on my own. He’d be furious if he knew.”

Waverly’s face softened and, without thinking, she reached out and brushed her fingers along Nicole’s wrist. “You came out to look for the little girl. You couldn’t leave her alone in a storm.”

“I had to at least try…” Nicole confirmed, but her voice was vacant. She was looking at Waverly’s fingers on hers.

“Wynonna is going to find her. She knows the guy who is taking the kids. I just need to –”

With one final crack, the sky split. Rain came down in sheets and soaked them both. Waverly tightened her grip on Nicole’s wrist and started dragging her in the direction of Vale’s house. Nicole tried to ask her something, but the roar of the rain drowned it out. A bolt of lightning cut through the trees like a scar somewhere behind them, and the hiss and smell of burnt wood made Waverly pick up the pace.

They took the three rotted steps at the door in a hurry. Waverly half-crashed into the door and pulled the handle. It was locked. She pulled again, straining, shaking the door until it rattled.

“Move,” Nicole commanded, and Waverly didn’t hesitate. Raising her gun to her eyes, Nicole shot the old lock off and opened the door. Waverly followed behind her, blinking.

The inside was, as was to be expected, filthy and covered with dust and bits of leaves and the carcasses of dead bugs. Nicole didn’t seem to notice; she was pacing agitatedly around, leaving a dripping trail on the floor as she rifled through drawers and baskets.

“What are you looking for?” Waverly watched her progress, realizing she had work to do here as well, but unsure of how to do so with an audience.

“Matches. Flint. Something to make a fire.”

Waverly pulled her phone from her pocket and turned on her flashlight app, illuminating the tables and countertops while Nicole searched. In the meantime, Waverly glanced around. There was nothing in the way of decoration, really. Just a wooden table in the middle and four warped chairs. A hallway. A wooden stove. Nothing that made it look homey or lived-in, even though, of course, it had not been in over one hundred years. From what she’d read, George Vale hadn’t been much of a family man. His taste for the company of young girls had assured that.

Which brought her back to the present. “Why don’t I go check the bedroom? Might be some in there. Can you see well enough to keep looking?”

Nicole nodded absently. It was disconcerting; Though they had spent more time together of late, Waverly had still never seen Nicole be anything but warm, friendly, and, most of all, completely focused on Waverly. With a last glance over her shoulder, Waverly made her way to the bedroom.

That, as it turned out, was both hugely helpful and also a huge mistake. A search of the sparse furniture revealed nothing initially. A second go-round, rapping with her knuckles, led Waverly to a latch that opened a false door in the back of the dresser. That was where she found the old photographs. Daguerreotypes were evidently much easier to pose for when your subjects were in pieces, and Waverly fought down the urge to gag, instead forcing herself to scour the photos for anything that might be useful. She considered bringing them into the living room where there was more light, but the last thing Nicole needed to see was a handful of pictures of little girls long dead. And the sooner they could take this bastard out, the better. Another few minutes of her eyes darting over and between and over again, scanning every photo for similarities, lighting, location, landma-

That was it. That was _it._

Waverly thumbed the lock screen aside on her phone and speed-dialed Wynonna. “Please go through, please go through,” she begged it. “Please, please, _please_ go through…”

“Wave? Tell me you’ve got something.”

Wynonna’s voice was staticky, but she could handle that. Waverly let out a puff of breath. “Wynonna – it’s the church. The old, old church on the very north edge of town. That’s where he buried all the others. That’s where he’s taking this one. Get there _now._ ”

“Did you hear that?” Wynonna’s voice faded, presumably talking aside to Dolls. “We’re on our way. Are you safe?”

“Enough,” Waverly said, lowering her voice at the sound of footsteps. “I’ll be fine, promise. Just let me know the minute you get the girl.”

“Promise. Be careful.”

“You too.”

Waverly ended the call when Nicole rapped on the doorframe. She turned around to find Nicole with her jacket off now, water slowly beading off her hair and nose onto the floor. “I got a fire going.”

Waverly stood, hurriedly putting the lid back on the box. “Good, I’m freezing.”

Nicole nodded, but her eyes trailed to the bedroom window, watching the branches lashing at the old, distorted glass. Now that she had done what she’d come here to do, she could turn her attention to figuring out her next problem – what on earth was going on with Nicole.

Waverly followed her to the living room and, as promised, the wood stove was trying its damndest to heat the room just a bit. Waverly pulled a chair over to it, hugging herself and regretting the tank top she’d chosen. And the shorts. And the sandals. Nicole settled into the chair next to her and held her hands toward the flame.

“I was on the phone with Wynonna,” Waverly tried. “She was updating me on the little girl. They’re pretty sure they know where she is, and they’re on their way to get her now.”

“Good,” Nicole said. “That’s…really good.” Her eyes were on the fire.

“Hey.” Waverly reached up to brush her fingers across Nicole’s cheek. “Look at me.”

Nicole flinched – actually flinched at her touch – and that wasn’t right at all. “Nicole,” she admonished, and brown eyes finally flicked up to meet her. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re too honest to be a good liar.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

But the end of her sentence was drowned in a ferocious clap of thunder, and Nicole jumped under her touch. She swallowed and turned her body away from Waverly, reaching for a poker to stoke the fire, but Waverly pulled her back around in sudden understanding.

Nicole was scared of thunderstorms. And would never in her life admit it.

Nicole looked fidgety and like she wanted to bolt from the chair, but Waverly scooted hers closer and took both of Nicole’s hands in her own. Nicole’s eyes flicked down to their hands and back up at Waverly, lips parted, somewhere between surprise and fear.

“Nicole…listen to me. I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to be 100% honest with me, okay?” Waverly leaned forward.

“…Alright,” Nicole said, nervously.

“Okay. Here goes.” Waverly drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Nicole’s chest was rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, and her hands twitched. “Okay. How. Do you tell the difference. Between an elephant. And a banana?”

Nicole blinked. “…What?”

“How do you tell the difference between an elephant and a banana?”

“I…don’t know?”

Waverly grinned at her. “You try lifting it! If you can’t get it off the ground, it’s probably an elephant…or it could be a heavy banana.”

 Nicole stared at her for a moment of silence. And then, like a pressure crack in a dam, she chuckled. And then outright laughed. “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

Waverly grinned and shrugged. “It’s from a kid’s movie I loved when I was little. I dunno, I thought it was super funny when I was six. No? Okay, okay. So a man asks a farmer in a field, ‘Sir, would you mind if I crossed your field? I have to catch the 4:20 train.’ And the farmer says –”

Shaking her head, Nicole leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. Waverly stopped and sucked in a breath. Nicole’s eyes had gone soft again in the dim light, a smaller version of her easy smile crinkling the corners. “Waverly Earp, you are something else.”

This close, Waverly could smell the woodsy perfume Nicole used. She could see the fluttering in her neck where Nicole’s pulse pounded. Waverly brushed some of the damp red strands out of Nicole’s face. “I guess…funny isn’t that something else?”

Nicole leaned closer, questions in her eyes. Close enough that Waverly shared her breath.

“No, you’re-”

Thunder interrupted them again, but Nicole’s gasp was swallowed by Waverly’s lips on hers. It was an accident, really – she’d just reacted when Nicole had jumped– but she was there now, and for a panicked moment, she felt Nicole stiffen under her. Then, as the thunder faded into low rumbles, Nicole’s lips softened. By the time it ended, she was cupping Waverly’s face in both hands and seeking gentle entrance with her tongue. Waverly melted, parted her lips for Nicole, and slid from her chair into Nicole’s lap. It’s nothing like Champ. Champ was rough and sloppy and aggressive. Nicole was warm and confident and when her hands slid down to the small of Waverly’s back to support her, it felt as if something important had locked into place. Waverly took the lead with a sudden urgency she’d never really felt before, all tongue and teeth and when she nipped at Nicole’s lip, God, the _sound_ she made –

Wynonna’s ringtone blared from her back pocket, bringing her crashing back to reality. For one single, guilty moment, she considered not picking up, before remembering that her sister was in fact headed for imminent danger. Reluctantly, she broke with Nicole and pulled out her phone.

“Hello?” she asked, breathless. Nicole was watching her carefully, almost guarded, hands still bracing Waverly’s back.

“She’s here, we’ve got her. Vale’s back in hell. Dolls got singed so we’re taking him to the doctor, but he’ll be okay. You did good, baby girl.” Waverly can hear sirens in the background. “Where are you?”

“Vale’s house.”

“Still?”

“I got caught in the storm.”

“We’ll send somebody out to get you, okay? Stay put.”

“That’s okay.” Waverly smiled down at Nicole. “I’m in good hands.”

“What? Who’s with you?”

“Explain later. ‘Bye.” Waverly hung up on her sister’s protests and slipped her phone back in her pocket. Nicole was gazing up at her, unmoving, leaving whatever happened next in Waverly’s hands.

“Sooo,” Waverly drawled, blushing at the realization of what had just occurred. “Um. Some storm, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“They’ve got the girl. She’s safe.”

“Good.”

It was Waverly’s turn to cup Nicole’s face. She smiled, the damp curtain of her hair framing them both. “You know, for a cop, you’re awfully twitchy.” Nicole frowned and opened her mouth to protest, but Waverly silenced her with a finger to her lips. “It was really brave of you to go looking for the girl by yourself. Kind of stupid, but really brave. Especially if it meant having to face something that scares you.”

Nicole’s face looked stricken, but she didn’t move. “…I got lost in the woods myself, when I was three. Overnight. In a bad storm. I just didn’t want to think of some other little girl doing the same thing.”

Waverly rubbed her thumb along Nicole’s cheek. “Oh, Nicole. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I mean, it was a long time ago and –”

“Shh,” Waverly said. “I’ll distract you.” She leaned in to kiss Nicole again, coaxing new sounds from her to complement the rain.

 

           


End file.
